


Unbecoming

by jeejaschocolate



Category: Uta no Prince-sama
Genre: Camus uses trickery to get what he wants, Character Study, Completely Consensual, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Romance, Senpai-Kouhai Relationship, Superiority Complex, mostly a PWP, the truth is obvious though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 18:35:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5596510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeejaschocolate/pseuds/jeejaschocolate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Camus finds himself…preoccupied with his kouhai, Cecil. To rid himself of the troubling feelings, he sets up a situation where he can “teach” Cecil how to properly make love. Strictly for idol purposes. …Right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unbecoming

**Author's Note:**

> Finally! This is done. Here is some serious love for this ship, as it should be. Lots of Camus and Cecil feels. The way I see it, Camus has a lot of issues so I wanted to show all of that, but then it turn those issues into something that Cecil can love. Because there should be a lot of love for these two, am I right?
> 
> Enjoy.

Camus stirred his coffee and took a hesitant sip. Too bland, he thought. But what could you expect from a country that held instant coffee to the highest standard. 

Setting down the cup, he turned his attention back to the book in his hand. A psychology textbook one of his old professors had referred him to. A fascinating look at the human mind, the drive behind so-called impulsive decisions that could be traced back to the most primal desires. Interesting, to be sure. But…

In all honesty, Camus had not read a single page of the book in the past hour. 

The count hated when he got like this. So distracted. For no reason! It happened very rarely, but he recalled all instances of distraction with vehemence. They seemed to happen to him at the worst times. Like today, he had carefully structured his schedule around two hours of reading time, hoping to make some headway in the book. And here he was wasting it on trivial matters. So trivial, in fact, that Camus could hardly bring himself to give words to what was bothering him.

It was all that stupid kouhai’s fault. 

Seriously, the kid was so irritating it was a wonder he had managed to live this long without somebody strangling the life out of him. But then, that just showed how protected he was by his princely status. Otherwise the kid would surely have been murdered by now. Camus had to discourage himself from being the one to do it.

After all the painstaking effort Camus put into being his senpai, Aijima still showed no true desire to be an idol. He slacked off and procrastinated all the assignments Camus gave him—not to mention the constant meddling in other people’s affairs. As if Aijima had any worthwhile advice to give! Camus gritted his teeth in annoyance at the prospect.

Why did he even put any effort into helping the kid? Well, Saotome had asked him to. But it went beyond that. From the moment he saw Cecil, as soon as they were introduced, Camus knew he had been given the most troublesome of all the STARISH kouhais. Cecil found a way to get right under Camus’s skin from the beginning, denying any want to be an idol. Idiot, everyone wanted to be an idol! And Cecil obviously loved attention more than most. So, because of the challenge in it, Camus had redoubled his efforts and been the most severe, unrelenting senpai possible.

But still…

Cecil slept late and went out partying. He came home from god knows where at odd hours, drunk as a fool, and fell asleep in his clothes. (Which brought up an interesting question, how did Cecil’s skin stay so smooth and unblemished without any proper care? Camus himself had a night and day skin care routine that would have put even a model to shame…but that was besides the point.) The child prince used the excuse that he was getting to know this new country better by stewing in its culture. 

“More like stewing in its sake, you fool…” Camus muttered under his breath.

The count put his knuckles against his mouth. He had just spoken aloud, to no one. That was hardly something he should be doing, especially with Saotome’s cameras all over the place. No, he needed to remain unbothered in this situation. 

Camus recrossed his legs and focused hard on the words before him. A Freudian versus Jungian analysis of the responses behind immediate synaptic stimuli…

And then there was everything else about Cecil that was so irritating. That careful attitude that made other people like him even though he was obviously the most immature one of the group. The foolish, new-immigrant way he spoke, messing up his Japanese in a way that people found cute and instantly forgave him for. Camus had rigorously studied foreign languages, including Japanese and all its dialects, so that he would never find himself in such a position. To this day, people could not tell the difference between his fluent speech and a native’s. He was secure in that.

But Cecil…

There was no way to hold that kid to anything. It was a miracle he had even come this far in the master course. Although, that just went to show how fortunate he was that Camus had deigned to help him through it. Without the count, Cecil would have flunked out right away with no leg to stand on. 

Camus closed his eyes and smirked a little. Cecil did not even know how lucky he was to have him as a senpai. Perhaps, in some way, that was the most frustrating thing of all. The kid followed around STARISH like a puppy dog when really he should have been beating down Camus’s door, begging for more instruction.

The image of that… Cecil on his knees, hands clasped together in front of him, demurely bowing his head… “Please, teach me more, senpai!” he would say, in that sweet, melodic voice of his…

Camus opened his eyes with a quick shake of his head. Had he almost fallen asleep? Or was that a…daydream? How foolish. He cleared his throat and took another sip of terrible coffee. He stared into his reflection on the surface of the cup and thought.

Naturally, that so-called daydream (Freudian vision, he preferred to say) was not the first of its kind. He had been having these visions of Cecil in all kinds of…compromising positions for weeks.

It all started one afternoon when Camus came home early from his usual laundry list of idol activities. The count had rescheduled his planner to include an entire night’s worth of rest. He had been especially worn down lately. Looking forward to a comfortable sleep, Camus headed to his bedroom where he expected to have some peace and quiet finally. He did not expect Cecil to be in, what with all the variety shows and nonsense he was filming.

So, he was unreasonably surprised when he opened the door to their shared room and found Cecil, naked as the day he was born, lounging on his unmade bed. There was a discarded towel on the floor, the prince’s brown hair was wet and sticking up in odd places, evidence that he had just finished taking a shower. Other than that, Cecil was laying on the bed with his headphones on, eyes closed, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to be naked in a shared academy dorm room.

Camus was rooted to the spot. He had seen Cecil with a shirt off before, coming in and out of the shower. Even that the count considered indecent. His upbringing in Permafrost taught him to generally frown upon gratuitous displays of skin. He had never seen anyone in his close family without full clothing on. There was no beach, too cold for that, so there was never any nonsense of swimsuits and that kind of thing… So, on a personal level, Camus had his own beliefs about public nudity. Surely people in this country would find them prudish, but that just showed how uncultured they were. Camus felt that clothing should accentuate the body, but the body itself was nothing more than a vehicle for excellence…

Yet, that day he stumbled upon Cecil, flaunting his body carelessly for whomever might walk in. And that was…well it was completely vulgar to say the least but… the sight of him. 

Oh yes. The sight of him. 

His bronze skin gleamed with leftover wetness from the shower. The sun was setting, shining light on Cecil as he lay, making the drops of water on his perfectly toned body sparkle somewhat… He looked like a golden statute, a crafted piece of artwork in dazzling earth tones. 

Camus felt a slight tingling sensation gathering around his manhood. His eyes widened and travelled down Cecil’s body. The young man’s muscly shoulders and abdomen, his thick, boyish thighs and delicately pedicured feet. Then there was the part of him, nestled in feathery light pubic hair, between his legs… Camus blushed from head to toe as he laid on eyes it. He blushed every time he remembered it. That surprisingly thick, but short member on casual display…as brown as the rest of him and just as teasingly nonchalant…

As if Cecil felt the intense weight of Camus’s stare, the kid opened his eyes and pulled off his headphones slowly. 

“Oh, Camus-senpai,” he said with a nice smile. “I didn’t expect you to be home at this hour.”

Camus needed to regain his focus on forming speech before he could answer. Swallowing thickly, he responded, “And I didn’t expect you to…be here…”

“Yeah.” Cecil picked up the towel from the floor. Camus was relieved that he might cover himself, but instead the prince started toweling his hair dry. Of all things! “The gang called it early tonight, so I decided to take some time to myself.” He gestured to the CD he was listening to. “This is Nanami’s latest song, want to take a listen?”

With that, Cecil held out the headphones. His large, emerald eyes sparkled with easy excitement. He seemed completely unselfconscious at being on display.

Camus blinked a few times. When he spoke again it was in his usual strong tone. “Aijima. You’re…nude.”

Cecil frowned. “Yeah I just got out of the shower.” Then dawning spread over his face. “Oh, does this…bother you? Sorry, it’s just…well, in Agnapolis it’s really hot, so, we just kind of hang out sometimes, not really wearing much. It’s not a big deal to us. But if you’re uncomfortable then—”

“It is not hot here,” Camus interrupted. “You need to put on clothing. Laying around like that is very indecent, especially for an idol. I will…leave now, and when I return I expect to see you at least covered by a robe or yukata.” 

Without another word, Camus turned on his heels and closed the door behind him. From there, he went straight to his private recording studio, where he recorded some of his classical cello pieces. It was the only other place he had some privacy.

Standing in the sound-proof room, surrounded by black walls and glass, Camus looked at himself in the mirror. His usual porcelain skin was flushed pink, his breath was unusually heavy. Every time he blinked he saw Cecil, laying naked in their room, with a content smile… The count knew, without looking, that he had become very hard—at full attention in the middle of the day. It was ridiculous. He was not some grade-school boy after all…

But Cecil had awoken some intense desire in him, unbidden as it was. Hesitantly, Camus touched his own cock lightly beneath his white dress pants. He moaned out loud, the sound echoing off the padded walls, just from that. As if on cue, images of Cecil rushed through his mind all at once. Cecil on his knees in front Camus; Cecil bending forward to bare that beautiful ass to him; Cecil with his eyes closed in intense pleasure, moaning Camus’s name as he was fucked within an inch of his life; Cecil calling him Camus-sama and begging…

The images proved too much for Camus to handle at the time. Already wet, the count removed his pants and masturbated in his recording studio. Normally, he would never approve of such behavior, but he had never been aroused like this before. The count held himself above such base needs, only giving in to self-pleasure when he was on a long excursion away from work. But this…he needed release. Immediately.

He came in record time, in pulsing waves that shook Camus’s body to the core. As he ejaculated, his knees gave out and the count grabbed onto the wall for support. He knocked over the music stand in front of him as a result. The loud clatter startled him out of his reverie and Camus’s eyes flew open, darting around the studio in panic.

But no, he was totally alone that time. Not even Saotome had cameras in that studio, it was part of Camus’s uncompromising demands. An artist needed his own space, he reasoned, to turn mistakes into beauty…and, apparently, to jack off like a miscreant when the need called. 

Camus never spoke to Cecil again about that day. He wanted it to be something he never admitted to, something that would pass in time—even if that intense desire had kind of scared him. Still, Cecil never needed to know about it and neither did anyone else. He could just go on being apathetic, ice-laden Camus, uninterested in anything but his own career.

Yet, that was not to be the case. Camus dreamed of Cecil, the same images as before. He thought of the young boy in every spare moment, even though he tried to force his focus onto other things. Cecil’s arrogant attitude only made things worse. Lately, Camus was especially hard on his kouhai, berating him for every little thing. 

Camus wanted to fuck the ignorance out of Cecil, as much as he wanted to take him apart piece by piece and make sweet love to each tantalizing part of him.

That was a problem, to be sure, because there was no way Camus could lower himself to ask for such a thing. Not to mention, he could never ever—at all, for any reason—put himself in a position where he could be rejected. It was…unbecoming of an idol. 

So, at this point, where Camus sat desperately trying to focus his mind on psychoanalytical theory, he found himself running out of options. Clearly, the count could not force himself to ignore this desire, as shameful as that was to admit. Nor could he simply approach Cecil with his feelings and put everything he had worked for on the line. That would include everything, his career, his reputation, his self-respect…everything.

And really, what could he expect from Cecil? A carefree romp, if that? A boy whose mouth ran as fast as running water and just as loose? No. Camus was always extremely careful about his choice in partner. He knew his own proclivities (women held no interest for him, unfortunately) and always made sure to be discreet where he found pleasure. Only a handful of young men in Permafrost had had the pleasure of his company, and those instances were brief one night stands.

That said, an actual person-to-person conversation with Cecil was out of the question. In truth, Camus would not even know where to begin with such a thing.

So that left…what? Trickery? Well, he would have to keep it professional. Anything else was too beneath him, and disrespectful of both their positions. He needed to make Cecil an offer that could be excused as something reasonable. Seemingly above board and…legitimate. 

Then it occurred to him. Cecil would need to perfect his powers of seduction and pleasure regardless of whom he chose as a partner. So, Camus could offer to train him. To improve his skill as a lover and as a man. Cecil would most likely agree to that. He had no reason not to, clearly the young prince was not embarrassed by anything.

Camus sighed. It was a ridiculous idea, but…it could work out for both of them. If the young prince refused then that would be the end of it, no question. If not, then well…perhaps at the end of all this, Cecil would finally be grateful for some worthwhile instruction.

There was always a chance, anyway.

_______________________________________________________________

Camus summoned Cecil to their dorm room the next afternoon—in the usual way: A text message that read, _Room._ Camus could not be bothered to type anything more than that. By this point, Cecil knew how to interpret his messages. 

The count sat on the chaise lounge in their dorm room, his bejeweled rod in one hand. He kept his eyes closed, a look of pure concentration on his face. Anyone who could have seen him would have sworn he was the perfect picture of elegance and control. Inside, however, Camus’s stomach was tied in knots, his palms sweaty enough to leave a mark on his scepter.

He had never done anything like this before. He had never wanted to. Now here he was, nervous that it would work out without either of them being made to look like a fool.

Cecil clomped up the stairs, taking his sweet time. He knocked on the door with a quick, “I’m coming in!” and then slowly opened the door with a tray of sandwiches in his hand. Camus flicked his eyes over to where his roommate stood.

“Myu-senpai!” Cecil said, face as bright as always. “I got your message. It’s lunchtime, you know. You should eat something!” He gestured to the tray of sandwiches. “Although, Natsuki made these, so I don’t know…”

“Put them down,” Camus ordered. “I have something to discuss with you.”

Blinking slowly, Cecil placed the tray on Camus’s desk and sat down on his bed across from his roommate. As soon as he sat, he got comfortable, resting his elbows on a pillow and crossing his ankles. “What is it? I’m all listening!”

Camus sighed and dropped his head a fraction. “That’s…not the expression.”

Cecil frowned. “No, I think it is.” 

The count shook his head, his pulse racing at being contradicted. “No. You’re wrong. The expression is, ‘I’m all ears.’”

The prince thought for a moment then shrugged. “Never heard of that before.”

Camus grit his teeth to bite back a snide comment. Instead he said calmly, “You need to be more observant. Anyway, that matter is irrelevant. I have something more serious to discuss. I read an article about you in a gossip magazine.”

Right away, the younger man sat up eagerly. “Really? What did they say? Was it about the outfit I wore the other day? Syo-kun said it was a little flamboyant, but I don’t know if that’s good or bad…”

“No.” The vein in Camus’s forehead had started to throb. “It was an article speculating about your….well, about your personal life.” Camus closed his eyes. “Your love life, to be specific.”

“My love life?” Cecil’s head tilted to one side. “Like…relationships and that kind of thing?” In the next moment, the prince burst out laughing. “That’s so funny! I’m not even in a relationship right now!” Then his face turned serious. “Wait, was it about Nanami?”

A tiny crack snaked its way through Camus’s heart to hear the girl’s name. “No, she was not mentioned,” he assured Cecil. “Like I said, the article was all speculation about what kind of person you would end up with, what kind of romantic partner you would be. In…so many words.” Camus cleared his throat. “Basically, the writers of the article were throwing out theories about what kind of lover you would be.”

Cecil raised his eyebrows. “Huh.” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “Well, what did they decide about me?”

Camus opened his eyes. He took in every detail about the way his roommate was sitting, his posture, his expression. The count reasoned that Cecil looked interested but not intrigued. Curious at best.

“Well,” Camus began. “They did not come to a definite conclusion. In the end, they declared that, and I quote, ‘only time will tell.’”

The younger man nodded. “Okay,” he said. “So…why is this important? I mean, it’s just a gossip magazine, right?”

Of course, there had been no such article. Camus did not read gossip magazines, nor had he gone looking for any gossip about Cecil. Mentioning such an article was just a gateway to this conversation. It was fortunate that Cecil did not ask for proof from the magazine, because Camus had none, but the count expected as much. The kid had a habit of taking things purely at face value.

But, being convincing was the only way to make this work.

Camus slammed his rod onto the floor. “Fool!” he yelled. “Of course this is important! Gossip magazines provide access to the public’s general opinion. If people are speculating about your love life, it means that they have reason to!”

The prince’s eyes had widened when Camus lashed out. But now, he relaxed and smiled. “Umm, is the reason because I’m such a good looking guy?”

Camus crossed his arms, bringing his rod up against his shoulder. “That is not the reason. It is because you give them reason to question your abilities.” 

“My…abilities?” Cecil tilted his head to one side again. “As…a boyfriend?”

“Precisely,” Camus replied. He took a deep breath, silently through his nose, and began, “Tell me, Aijima. Have you ever been in a romantic relationship?”

Cecil snorted a laugh. “Umm…I guess? Yeah, pretty much…” His green eyes shifted nervously. “Why do you ask?”

“Because.” Camus fixed his piercing blue eyes straight into Cecil. His face was cold and domineering. “Being a capable lover is an important part of being an idol. Your reputation as someone who can bring joy and light into the world will be tarnished if you cannot satisfy your partners. People will say that your exterior, the shining part of yourself that you present to the world, does not match your interior. That is to say, what you can actually do.” 

Now, Cecil was listening carefully. He absorbed all of Camus’s words. Slowly, the young prince nodded his head. “Yeah. I think I see what you mean, Myu-senpai. If I’m a bad boyfriend then it will look like everything else I do is just an act, right?”

Camus nodded. “Yes. So, naturally, it is my job as your superior to teach you these matters as well.”

“You mean…teach me?” Cecil raised his eyebrows and lowered his face, an inquisitive look. “Teach me what?”

The count clicked his tongue. “How to be a good lover, of course.”

Cecil snorted out a laugh, face turnings slightly red. “Umm…seriously?”

“This is no laughing matter.” Camus kept his demeanor as icy as ever. “We’re talking about your reputation here, the only thing an idol has at the end of the day.” 

The prince was silent for a moment. He stared at Camus for what felt like a while. Briefly, the count felt the boundary between their roles becoming blurry, as Cecil’s eyes bore into him. Then, in a flash it was gone.

Cecil shrugged and smiled. “Alright,” he said. “I guess I could take a few pointers from you. But, how are you going to teach me, Myu-Senpai?”

That question was very close to some comments Camus had fantasized about. His throat went dry for a moment and he had to try hard not to appear affected.

“Well, first, let’s talk about your experience.” Camus laid his rod back on the floor, his other hand resting delicately in his lap. “You said you’ve been in romantic relationships before. Describe them to me.”

Cecil scratched the back of his neck. “Well, I mean, other than my feelings for Nanami, I guess I’ve never really been in love before or anything. But, yeah, I had some girlfriends back home in Agnapolis. Nothing serious. It’s just, some girls that I grew up with kind of had crushes on me once we became teenagers. So we fooled around a bit.” 

Camus closed his eyes and turned his face away. “Clarify what you mean by ‘fooled around.’ Be specific.” 

“Uh, well…” Cecil frowned, as if trying to remember exactly. As Camus had anticipated, the young man show no signs of embarrassment, just mild confusion and an attempt to take this seriously. “It was only like…three girls? Two? No, three, definitely three.” 

“You don’t remember?” Camus’s voice turned dark.

“Heheh…” Cecil grinned. “No, I remember now. Two of the girls wanted to be with me together, so the three of us just like…I don’t know, made out?” 

“Meaning you…?” Camus would not stop until Cecil gave him all the specifics.

“We kissed. They let me touch their breasts, one of the girls gave me…what is it called? With her hand?”

“A hand job,” Camus provided.

Cecil nodded. “Yeah, that. So we just messed around.”

“Did you climax?” Camus was staring at him relentlessly.

Cecil’s eyes widened at that. “Uh…yes? Jeez, that’s…kind of a personal question, Myu-senpai…”

Camus shook his head, even as a vision of Cecil climaxing made his heart start to race. “No. I need to know. So, you have some experience with that, but did you bring any of those girls to climax?”

The young prince glanced away. “Not them, no. But the other girl I mentioned. With her…yeah, I did.”

Camus swallowed thickly. “Tell me.”

“Well she was someone who liked me a lot. I always thought she was really pretty. One night, we snuck into part of the palace where I lived and started talking about what we wanted to do with our lives. I guess it got…personal. Before I knew it, we were kissing and touching… She kissed me everywhere and then told me that she wanted to do it. Go all the way, I mean.”

“Did you?” Camus asked.

Cecil nodded. “Yeah we did. It was safe, we used protection and everything. She looked like she knew what she was doing.”

“Who was on top?” Camus figured the answer to this would decide how things would proceed.

“She was. That’s the way she wanted it. So, we had sex like that. I came, she showed me how to touch her and stuff. She came. I think we both had a pretty good time!” Cecil grinned happily at the memory.

Camus could not explain why, but that grin made him feel distantly sad. A prickling feeling he could only describe as jealousy settled deep in his stomach, making him feel like lashing out again.

“Fine, yes. But that is just one experience. On a young girl already eager to be with you. You hardly have anything to be smug about.” Camus’s blue eyes narrowed unsympathetically. 

Cecil’s grin relaxed into a bewildered smile. “Sure, whatever you say, Myu-senpai,” he answered. Far from being hurt, the young prince just looked amused at Camus’s harsh words.

Camus tilted his head backward and got a hold of himself. “So. That is the sum of your experience, then?”

The young prince nodded. “Pretty much, yeah. Besides a few kisses here and there at parties.” 

“And, you have only ever been with women on these occasions?”

Cecil narrowed his eyes and turned his head, questioningly. “Yeah…?”

Camus nodded, feeling slightly defeated. “Let me ask you. Do you have any interest in men?”

“Like, romantically?” Cecil blinked while his older roommate said nothing. He continued, “Uh, well…I’ve never thought about it seriously. I’ve never done anything with another guy, but, it’s not like I wouldn’t want to.” Cecil nodded slowly. “Yeah, I mean, now that I think about it, some guys are really attractive. Like Ichinose-san and Ren-san…” Cecil grinned goofily and Camus growled under his breath. “I wouldn’t mind doing stuff with them too. Yeah, for sure!”

Camus stood up abruptly, propping his rod up against the couch. “I see. Well, this is how I am going to teach you. I am going to be your partner today. I will be the seme in this scenario, as I am the one with more experience. You will observe everything I do, watch my technique, and follow my instructions. This way, you will know how to act if you are ever a seme or an uke, regardless of whom you find yourself with.” 

“So you’re going to…” Cecil’s eyes were as wide as dinner plates. “…You’re going to have sex with me now, senpai?”

The count’s cock twitched to life. He smirked. “One step at a time, Aijima,” he declared. “Stand up first and approach me.” 

The prince blinked, seeming to turn over the situation in his head. Camus let him think about it for a while, wondering if his resolve was wavering at all. But then, Cecil stood and and walked slowly over to him. The young prince was still wearing a bewildered smile, but as he got close to Camus his eyes seemed to sparkle even more brightly. 

Camus lowered his voice to a whisper. “First, let’s work on your kissing technique.” With that, the count brought his pale hand up to Cecil’s face. He gently trailed his fingers down Cecil’s cheek to rest them against the bottom of his chin. Tilting the younger man’s face upward, he brought their lips together for a light kiss.

The longer their lips stayed together, the more passion Camus felt stirring up within him. At first it felt like nothing, just a soft pressing of flesh against his mouth, but then…the count moved his lips slightly. He could feel Cecil’s soft breath, his warm mouth responding to the touch. Camus’s passion flared and he kissed Cecil harder, letting go of some of the intense desire he had felt these past weeks.

Cecil turned his head for a better angle, deepening their kiss. He put his hands around Camus’s waist, already intimate. The count was startled when he felt those hands, surprised that Cecil would respond right away, but then he realized that it meant Cecil was enjoying it. Camus smiled and kissed him again and again, faster each time.

Eventually, he realized this kiss had lasted a ridiculously long time. Camus pulled away to look at his partner. Cecil’s eyes were closed and his face had an expression of sheer enjoyment. When he opened his eyes, the younger man looked slightly overwhelmed, but happy.

“Wow, Myu-senpai,” he said quietly. “That was…really intense.” 

“That is how a kiss should feel, Aijima,” the older man said softly. “Let me show you again.”

They kissed some more, both of them bringing their lips together in want. As they kissed, Camus let go of Cecil’s chin and ran his hand down the younger man’s torso, softly feeling all the covered muscles there. The count’s body shivered in anticipation. He wanted so much more. He felt along the hemline of Cecil’s shirt, seeking out the warm flesh underneath. 

Cecil twitched as he felt cold hands against him. Then he giggled and pressed himself closer to Camus, running his hands up and down the older man’s back. Camus felt his control loosening at the eager way his kouhai reacted. He broke their kiss to mouth at the skin on Cecil’s chin and neck. The younger man moaned softly. 

“Ah, Myu-senpai…you’re good at this…” Cecil said, gripping his senpai’s shoulders.

Camus grinned and nipped at Cecil’s collarbone. “I know,” he responded smugly. Dying to tease his kouhai, the older man dragged his hand lower, stroking the prominent bulge in Cecil’s jeans with the backs of his fingers.

Cecil made a sound that could only be called a whimper. Camus wanted to scold him, a man should not make such a sound, but it was so delicious to hear that the count decided to say nothing. Truthfully, he wanted Cecil to make that sound again. So, Camus rubbed Cecil’s groin over and over, making the younger man whine, his hips starting to twitch automatically.

Camus licked the hollow of Cecil’s throat and backed away. Cecil’s eyes seemed panicked when he registered the loss of contact.

“Did I…do something wrong?” Cecil asked, his hands still poised to hold onto his senpai.

The count smiled confidently and shook his head. “No, you are being very receptive. Keep that attitude. But now, let me assess your body.”

“You mean, you want me to take my clothes off?” Cecil asked, no hint of embarrassment in his voice.

Camus nodded, every part of him eagerly awaiting the sight.

“But you’ve seen me naked before, Myu-senpai…” Cecil said, starting to unbutton his shirt.

Camus fought back a blush. “Yes, well, now I am asking you to do it.”

Giggling, Cecil got undressed. He moved slowly, far too slowly for Camus’s liking. He felt almost like the younger man was teasing him, especially when Cecil got down to nothing but his boxers. By this point, the count could feel the blood pumping through his veins. He felt the temperature had gone up quite a bit—was he actually sweating in here? 

The younger prince watched him carefully. Then, he lowered his boxers inch by inch pulling them off his ankles quickly at the end.

In that instant, Camus almost forgot he was supposed to be acting. Cecil was as gorgeous as he remembered, only now, the cock between his legs was flushed and at attention, not as short as it was before. In fact, it had grown to be quite prominent, in girth and length, and Camus fought the urge to grab hold of it immediately and stroke it to completion. 

“So, what do you think, Camus-san?” Cecil asked, his hands on his hips.

Camus wrenched his eyes upward to meet his kouhai’s stare. He wanted to tell Cecil that he thought the younger man was magnificent, in every sense of the word. That he had a body anyone would be extremely lucky to enjoy, and that Camus wanted to feel all of him as a result. But that would be…too close to revealing his true intentions. So the count said, “You have…an adequate body.”

Cecil laughed. “Well, if that tent in your pants is any indication, I’d say I’m more than adequate.”

Camus blushed furiously and sputtered for a moment. In a second, he composed himself and stood up taller. “Silence!” he reprimanded. “Go sit on the bed.” 

Cecil seated himself comfortably, keeping his legs spread immodestly. Camus looked away and pulled together a confident smile. 

“Let me show you what more than adequate looks like,” he said.

On cue, Camus started to disrobe. Unlike Cecil, the older man did not take his time. He seemed to take off his garments two at a time, releasing his pale, beautiful figure with a quiet moan. All at once, the count was stark naked, leaving nothing more to the imagination. His flawless skin almost glowed in the fading afternoon light, his proud cock as hard as it could get. It was longer than Cecil’s, more proud somehow.

Cecil closed his legs slowly, sitting up straighter as he took in the sight. He muttered something in a foreign tongue. “Camus-san…” he whispered, emerald eyes shining. “You are so beautiful…”

Camus looked down smugly. “Now do you understand?” he asked. “This is how you should present your body to your lover. Let your body and your heart speak for itself!”

Still overwhelmed, Cecil met his senpai’s gaze. “So what is your heart telling me right now? I don’t know if I can hear it.”

Camus opened his mouth to say something, to reprimand him for not being able to hear something that was so obvious, but then he closed it right away, reminding himself not to be too open in this case. They were still…at odds. 

“Just pay attention,” Camus grumbled, approaching Cecil on the bed. 

Camus held into the back of Cecil’s hands, then stroked upwards, relishing the feel of Cecil’s bare skin. The younger man quivered and Camus explored the rest of him, guiding him to lay back. Leaning over him, still standing, Camus touched every part of Cecil, not relenting for a second, moving his hands everywhere all at once. He wanted to gather as much information about the young man as possible. The smooth feel of that bronze skin left nothing to be desired. 

For his part, Cecil raised his arms above his head and let himself be explored. “Your hands are so cold, Camus-san,” he complained. But still, the younger man twisted and sighed as he was touched. 

Finally, the count wrapped one hand around Cecil’s engorged member, twisting his grip slightly to collect all of it in his fist. The older man had to bite his tongue not to sigh into the touch, so happy to finally feel that beautiful cock for himself. The prince jolted upright, eyes wide. He searched Camus’s face, but the count met his stare and continued stroking him. Little by little, Cecil gave into the pleasure, eyes slowly closing, laying back down on the bed. 

Camus bent down farther and kissed Cecil’s body as he stroked him. He was letting himself enjoy this far too much, but…this was more than he had ever imagined. Cecil was so open, so relaxed, but shy in an inexperienced way. Camus had never been so aroused. The younger man’s energy found a way to titillate him like nothing ever had.

“Ah, Myu-senpai…” Cecil moaned, wrapping a hand around the back of Camus’s neck. “You’re touching every inch of me…I’m really turned on right now…”

“Good,” Camus crooned. “Now…” With that, he grabbed Cecil’s hands and guided them to the young man’s knees. “Lift up your legs so I can touch the rest.”

Eyes clouded with pleasure, Cecil had no objections. He held onto his knees and lifted his legs as high as he could, leaving his entrance exposed for Camus.

The count’s mouth watered at the sight. Here was his kouhai—his stubborn, beautiful kouhai—submitting to him at last. His heart soared in happiness, cock beginning to leak in excitement.

“A little higher,” Camus instructed, just because he could.

Cecil sighed and lifted his legs higher, the fraction of an inch that was left. 

“Very good, Aijima,” Camus purred. He turned away for a moment to retrieve some lubricant from the nightstand drawer. Cecil watched him intently the entire time while Camus spread some of the liquid onto his fingers. Finally he declared, “I’m going to touch you now.” 

“O-okay…” Cecil murmured, not moving a muscle. 

“Don’t be frightened,” Camus whispered, circling Cecil’s entrance with one finger. “I am going to show you how to do it so that there is no pain involved. Just relax your muscles so that there’s no resistance.” 

Cecil nodded. The older man could feel his kouhai’s entrance throbbing as Cecil forcibly relaxed. Biting his lip, Camus pushed his finger into him. He moaned without even realizing it, feeling that tight heat surrender to him.

The prince tensed for only a second and then relaxed once more. He let Camus go as deep as he could. They stayed like that for a moment, Cecil with his legs high in the air, one of Camus’s slender, cold fingers in his ass. Then, Camus wiggled his finger experimentally. In response, Cecil gave another whimper

The older man chuckled. “How does it feel?” he asked. 

“Kind of…weird?” Cecil answered, with a confused look. “But not bad.”

“I see. Well, allow me…” Camus put another finger inside him and started pushing in and out. Cecil’s whole body jerked as he was finger fucked, a startled look of pleasure on his face. 

“Camus-san,” the younger man said. “That’s—” Then he broke off with a moan. 

The count grinned, increasing his pace as he realized he found Cecil’s sweet spot. The younger man rocked back and forth as he endured the pleasure. Camus wrapped his hand around his kouhai’s dick again, loving the way it twitched in his hand.

“Myu-senpai,” he groaned, body rigid. “Are you…trying to make me…?”

Camus slowed down his strokes and his fingers. Honestly, he could not wait to see the look on Cecil’s face when he reached orgasm, but, he wanted a little more from him first. Cecil relaxed and opened his eyes questioningly. 

“Of course you’re going to come, Aijima. I would never settle for anything less, and neither should you. But let me show you how to properly make love to someone.” Then the count kneeled down between Cecil’s legs, pinning his hands on either side of Cecil’s head. 

This close, they two men could not help but feel how intimate they had become. Camus could not tell if it was because of this little ruse he had created or if there was something real between them…but in that moment he stopped caring. He bent down and kissed his kouhai fully on the mouth.

“Ah, Myu-san…” Cecil said when they broke away. He wrapped his legs around Camus’s waist and cupped his senpai’s face with his hands. “You are so passionate…”

Camus smirked, kissing his neck again. “I know,” he said, nipping slightly to tease him.

“Tell me,” Cecil began. He turned so that they were face to face again. “How long have you wanted to do this?” 

The grin on Camus’s face faded as realization dawned on him. He froze completely, heart skidding to a halt. He leaned back from Cecil a bit, creating more space between them.

“W-what do you mean?” Camus stammered. “This is…part of your instruction…”

Cecil cupped his face again, eyes shining. “It’s okay, Myu-san. I can tell you’ve wanted this for a while. It’s written all over your face.”

The count jerked backward, moving to pull away in sudden shame. But Cecil grabbed his shoulders and pulled him back in for another kiss. Slowly, little by little, Camus relaxed into the kiss. He figured that if his kouhai were kissing him like this, after figuring out his true intentions, then he must be alright with it. 

The thought made him collapse on top of Cecil in relief. The prince kept his legs wrapped tightly around his senpai. Camus buried his face against Cecil’s neck, drinking in the taste and scent of him with newfound joy. 

“I think I can hear your heart now, senpai,” Cecil whispered in Camus’s ear.

The count smiled against his neck. Then he leaned back and regarded his kouhai with a relieved, but slightly bashful smile. “You’re right. I have wanted this for a while. Very much.” He punctuated his admission by thrusting his very erect member against Cecil’s stomach. 

Cecil grunted in pleasure, then shook his head in disbelief. “You know, you could have just asked me to do this. I would have said yes anytime.” 

Camus felt flooded with warmth. He had never quite experienced the strange feeling, but now, looking into Cecil’s shining emerald eyes, he wanted to hold onto his kouhai tightly and never let go. He decided then and there that he would try, actually try for once, to accomplish that.

“Before this, I was…uncertain…” the count admitted. Honesty from now on.

This time, Cecil actually laughed. “Are you kidding?” he asked. “How could I not want you? You’re one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met, Myu-san. You’re so together, you’re beautiful, you’re…everything.”

All at once, Camus was consumed by a whirlwind of love and lust (not to mention, a surplus of ego). With a growl, he sat up on his knees and pushed Cecil’s legs up until the young man’s knees pressed against his own chest. 

“Ah!” Cecil cried, cringing slightly. “Myu-san, be gentle!”

Hurriedly, Camus slapped some lube on his cock. “Apologies, Aijima,” he said. “But I must have you now.”

Not waiting for anything else, Camus thrust his hard cock inside Cecil. He did not even bother to restrain himself anymore. As soon as they were connected, both men cried out in pleasure. The tight heat of his kouhai was almost enough to make Camus release immediately. He felt enveloped by the sweetest, warmest piece of sunlight. But he held on, not wanting that to be their first sexual experience together.

Slowly now, to hold off his own climax, Camus slid forward and backward. There was not a lot of friction, surprisingly. Cecil was keeping himself as open as possible. The count had only to look down to see a look of shock on his kouhai’s face, brows knitted in tortured pleasure.

Camus lay on top of Cecil again. “How does that feel, now?” he asked, stroking the side of Cecil’s face lovingly. He kept on fucking him, keeping a steady rhythm.

The younger man turned his face to kiss Camus’s hand, seemingly unable to speak. However, that kiss spoke volumes. Cecil was in heaven. 

Chuckling deep in his throat, Camus picked up his pace. “I’m glad you like it,” he said. His voice was thick with strain.

The time for words had ended, it seemed. Camus rode out his kouhai, Cecil moaning and whimpering with each thrust. Every sound the younger man made drove the count to push harder and harder, until he was pounding into Cecil with no hope of holding back.

On the brink of climax, Camus bit hard on Cecil’s neck. 

“Oh!” Cecil yelped. “Camus, please don’t stop! Make me come, please!” 

That was it and Camus came hard, releasing deep inside the younger man. He threw his head back with a scream, every nerve in his body electrified by a very satisfying orgasm. Normally, the count never raised his voice above a deep yell, but…he screamed until he had nothing left. 

Feeling a splash of wetness against his chest told him that Cecil had climaxed as well. When he opened his eyes, his kouhai was staring at him with amazement. 

“Camus, you…” Cecil panted. “Your face. When you’re coming, your face is…so intense. You made me come without even…”

Camus grinned, realizing that he had indeed made Cecil come without a hand to his cock. 

More than happy with that, the count pulled out to go get a towel. When he returned, Cecil was still in the same exact spot, seemingly too tired to move. Wordlessly, Camus wiped any remaining cum from his kouhai’s body. He made sure the younger man was completely dry before pulling a blanket over him.

Cecil giggled, staring at Camus as he worked. “You take such good care of me,” he said, pulling Camus down to lay next to him.

The count smiled. His demeanor was much more relaxed. Almost warm. “That is part of my responsibility as well,” he affirmed.

They lay in silence for a few moments. Cecil laced their fingers together while Camus combed the prince’s hair with his other hand. They were both lost in their own thoughts.

“Well,” Cecil said after a while. “You definitely taught me a lot today. I can’t wait to use some of it.”

Camus’s sapphire eyes flashed, throwing daggers at Cecil in an instant. He had become threatening in a less than a second.

The prince laughed. “Use it on you, I mean.” 

With that, Camus settled down again. He patted the side of Cecil’s head encouragingly. “Good."

 

 

 

The end.

**Author's Note:**

> So yup, they're totally ridiculous! But totally in love. I hope you liked all the hilarious, sexy antics. :)


End file.
